


For your laughter

by harnatano (orphan_account)



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: happy elves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/harnatano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very short thing, because I needed more fluff: Tiny Tyelpe wants his father to stop being sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For your laughter

The day had been excellent, filled with joy, emotions and surprises, and when the young Celebrimbor heard his father stepped into the house, he put his toys aside, slowly and carefully standing up, and started to walk towards the door. But his footsteps were still hesitating, his young legs trembling beneath him; he wasn’t very confident yet, not enough to cross a long distance like the one that separated him from the door, and after a few clumsy steps, the child decided that it would be less dangerous to stay on his hands and knees.

Crawling quickly to his father, he called him, a laughter echoing in his voice, and he grinned as Curufin’s eyes fell upon him; his father had been gone for a few hours only, but how deeply he had missed him.

A fragil smile appeared on Curufin’s lips, a smile Celebrimbor wasn’t used to see, and he instantly understood something was wrong.

For a moment, he wondered if he had done something wrong, if he was the reason of his father’s obvious trouble, but when Curufin reached out to gently pat his head, the child understood he wasn’t the cause of the problem.

Perhaps his father had lost one of his favorite toys - Celebrimbor was always very sad when he lost his toys, and in his young mind, it was an excellent reason to be troubled.

A strong wave of empathy rolling over him, the child watched his father sit down in a chair; Curufin wasn’t smiling anymore, his features looked tensed, his fingers stroking his chin nervously, his gaze covered by a shadow, and it made Celebrimbor very sad.

Determined to do something, to help his father - as his father had helped him so many times before - Celebrimbor picked up his favorite stuffed animal, Yaulinkë - a yellow cat with a soft fur and big paws - and carried by the strength of his love and determination he walked to his father; he walked without the help of anyone, without clinging to the furnitures, his two feet firmly rooted on the floor.

His father didn’t notice him until Celebrimbor rested his hand on his knee, and when Curufin turned his face to look at his son, the little boy handed him his stuffed animal. The young father frowned, his head tilting slightly, lifting one hand to pat the animal’s head.

“For you, atya.” Grinning, the child put his toy in his father’s hand, hoping he would understand, hoping it would be enough to comfort him. If he had lost a toy, he certainly needed a new one. Plus, the young Noldo didn’t know enough word yet, he didn’t know how to tell his father not to worry, how to make him feel better, and Yaulinkë had always helped Celebrimbor when he was sad; the child could only hope it could also help his father. “Atya… Yaulinkë for you.”

Curufin took the toy, observed it and gave a soft smile before picking up his son and putting him on his lap. “I cannot take it, Tyelpë. Yaulinkë is yours.”

Tiny fingers brushing against the fur, the child shook his head and looked at his father, determination dancing in his silver eyes. “Yaulinkë for you. Yaulinkë your friend and… and… and…” He trailed off, frowning as he tried to focus on the words. “… And you will be happy, atya.”

Curufin’s smile grew wider, and still holding the stuffed cat, he pressed it gently against Celebrimbor’s cheek, mimicking a kiss.

“As long as you are here, son, I will be happy. Yaulinkë belongs to you.”

“But… Atya… Yaulinkë wants to be your friend.” The child explained, his fingers culring around his father’s braid. “He wants to stay with you.”

“Alright… He will stay with me today, but he will come back to you tonight. Does that seem fair?”

The child mused, pondering the offer, and after a few seconds he nodded. “… And you will be happy?”

Curufin gave a nod which didn’t totally satisfy his son, and slowly, Celebrimbor wrapped his arms around his neck, holding him as tightly as he could. He felt his father’s arms around him, his father face in his hair, and Celebrimbor hoped he had won; he hoped ha had made his father happier. “Atya…” He begun in a whisper. “… Will you stop being sad?”

His father didn’t reply, but a few seconds later, his felt him shift a bit and five malicious fingers started to tickle his ribcage. The child screamed with surprise and joy, loud laughters echoing in the room. 

Holding him tightly, Curufin was tickling him mercilessly, and between his own laughters Celebrimbor heard his father’s laugh.

This time, he knew he had won. He knew his faher wasn’t sad anymore. And it made him happy.


End file.
